Classic Poem

Swirl and pass of listless eyes,
Thronging up the breathless street,
Clang and roar of iron wheels
In the midday heat.

Nervous noon-tide whistles shrill,
Stabbing through the sullen air;
Hoarse, defiant, like a voice
Dauntless in despair.

See! Against the blinding sky,
High above the steel-shod hoofs,
Moving wisps of coloring
On the factory roofs.

Waving arms and streaming hair,
Joyous-leaping, hand in hand,
Sweat-shop girls with lifted face
Dance a saraband.
Not a tap of rhythmic feet,
Not a shred of melody,
Lilting thinly on the height,
Flutters down to me.

Whirling dust of city streets,
Recklessly they laugh on high;
Tiny motes across the sun
Dancing in the sky!